


Teacher's pet

by Sziondaisy



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Electrocution, M/M, Mechs covered in fluids, Mostly Pwp, Multi, Optic socket sex, Orgy, Pain for pleasure, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:49:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sziondaisy/pseuds/Sziondaisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The DJD have been trying to teach Vos how to speak Neocybex since they first came together, but the lessons were all failures. Tarn comes up with a new way to try and teach Vos a few words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teacher's pet

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short ficlet, not a 4400 word monster. I just wanted to write Vos fragging Kaon's optic holes for Halloween and instead it turned into something with a vague plot and an orgy.

Tarn leaned forward in the throne-like chair, resting his elbows on his knees as he spoke down to Vos, “you can do it Vos, sound it out, join the syllables together. De-cep-tic-ons.”

Vos remained stubborn, sitting cross legged on the floor in front of his leader, his hands behind him as he stared up at the ceiling, pointedly ignoring the other four mechs in the room. For vorns, Tarn had been trying to teach him Neocybex and after all those lessons, Vos still barely knew how to say his own name. He tried, Primus knows he tried. There were nights when he tried so hard that he wound himself into an angry, snarling ball of frustration. Tarn would always soothe him after those nights, holding him to his chest and singing old lullabies that pulled on Vos' EMF softly, smoothing the sharp, angry edge. By the time Tarn was done, Vos was exhausted and more often than not slipped into recharge while he was held, but he always woke alone in his own berth. 

It became a taboo subject, rarely mentioned around Vos who was quick on the defensive. It didn't stop Tarn searching out the best medics, a coding specialist and a mnemosurgeon, although no one could find out and fix the problem. The vorns of tests had left Vos bitter to the idea of learning. 

Awkward silence quickly consumed the room, all optics on Vos, waiting for him to make the next move. It never came. The small rifle didn't move, instead his optics remained fixed on the ceiling where the light from the window played across the matt metal in a kaleidoscope of colours. 

“Vos,” Tarn chastised, a slight edge of annoyance making its way into his tone, “wouldn't you like to be able to communicate with the rest of your team.”

Vos considered that for a moment, leaning back until he could see the faces of his team mates. When it mattered they all understood each other, some kinds of communication were wordless. /Not particularly. No,/ he answered, sitting forward and fixing Tarn with a resolute glare. 

“That isn't the attitude.” 

/If it is so important that they understand me, then perhaps you should try and teach them Primal Vernacular instead. It will be easier for them to learn my language, than me theirs. I find it a repulsive and simple tongue, lacking in both culture and finesse./ Vos' engine revved angrily, /how long are you going to keep 'teaching'? I can't learn it and these lessons are tiresome./

“Can't is a very ugly word, Vos.”

Silence fell again as Vos made his annoyance known with his EMF, flaring it out like the radiation from a burning sun. Kliks ticked by like minutes, drawing the stalemate out. It was Tarn who moved first, venting a heavy sigh as he sat back, his thick fingers pressing against his optics as he shook his head, “why must you make everything so difficult?”

Behind Vos, a chair creaked loudly as one of the behemoths shifted impatiently. Probably Tesarus. 

“Just force him to learn and be done with it,” Helex said with a frown, “you're so soft on him.” 

Even without an expressive face, Vos managed to look smug at that. As a group they had been together for what seemed like an eternity and in all that time, Tarn had failed in his task. Vos knew it was wrong to take satisfaction from that but sometimes it was the little things that mattered. Tarn had been so sure that he could teach anyone, anything, yet vorns later, Vos was no closer to learning the language than he had been before he joined. 

“No,” Tarn replied, his silken tone hinting at a better idea, “Vos just needs the...right incentive. Punishing him isn't going to work, he enjoys it.” Tarn hummed softly as he thought about the best way to make his new plan work. His voice dropped low when he next spoke, “but you don't like to be ignored, do you, Vos?” 

Tarn's tone went straight to Vos' spark, constricting the swirling life force and tugging it against his spark casting, until the small mech couldn't take it any more and flinched back with a growl, bringing his hands up over his spark as if it would protect him from the sound. 

It was time to change tactic; distract and seduce. /You wouldn't like it if they could understand me, it wouldn't make you special any more,/ he purred, rising onto his knees and crawling forward like a turbo-hound on the prowl, fixing Tarn with hungry optics. /You like being the only one who understands what I say. It's the very thing that sets me apart that you love. It makes you feel good, special, that you know something they don't. Does it make you feel superior to them? To all of us? You speak both languages, we only speak one. It does, I know it, I feel it when you translate, that smug undertone that makes mechs think you're so highly educated./ 

Stopping just short of Tarn, he rose and leaned forward until his chest was pressed to Tarn's knees. Long, clawed fingers stroked their way up Tarn's thighs, squeezing the warm metal. /I always know what you want, Tarn. I know you better than anyone./

With the attractive, vibrating frame pressed to his knees, Tarn couldn't help that his circuits heated in response. He cleared his throat of static and pinched the tip of Vos' gun barrel, earning himself a pained hiss, /so sure of yourself, Vos./

Vos knew how to play Tarn like one of the fine instruments the larger mech was so fond of listening too and Tarn had no complaints. Smug satisfaction filled Vos, as soon as Tarn had replied in Primal Vernacular, he knew he had won. At least he thought he had.

A deep, rich laugh broke from Tarn's vocaliser as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Vos', staring into the ruby optics of his subordinate. As the leader he knew it was wrong to have a favourite, but Vos had always been a challenge and that made him slightly more interesting than the other more obedient members of their group. 

Rough fingers cupped Vos' chin, stroking with a genuine affection. “Maybe it is time we changed tactic, hmm? We are going to have fun without you. If you want to join us then you have to ask. In Neocybex,” Tarn's voice dropped, sending a thrill through Vos who shivered, sliding himself between Tarn's parted thighs until his vibrating frame was pressed to Tarn's interface panel, dragging a whispered moan from the larger mech. 

Tarn allowed Vos to be there only for a few kliks before he pushed Vos away, “from this moment on, there will be no Primal Vernacular spoken in this room. If you break the rules, you'll get a punishment from a mech of my choice.”

A challenge? Vos' engine revved loudly in excitement. It would be difficult, there were certain sounds his vocaliser struggled to form and Neocybex was a stilted language full of sharp edged syllables that his processor couldn't comprehend and translate. /Fine. You give me what I want and I'll try to speak your vile language. For such a cultured mech, you speak slag./

Tarn didn't rise to the bait, “Kaon.” 

Not waiting to be told, Kaon stepped forward, hands extended. The air crackled momentarily, then snapped as an arc of electricity connected with Vos. The smaller mech cried out and arched, more in shock than pain. Kaon was holding back, Vos had taken bigger shocks in the past, both accidentally and deliberately. Even so, there was no denying that it hurt, Vos' sharp intake of air was testament to that. But, unlike the mechs they tortured, Vos laughed through the pain and ran his hands down his chest, dragging the charge with it. 

The new game had caught Tesarus' interest and the mech who'd formally been bored with what seemed like another pointless lesson, was suddenly sitting on the edge of his chair, his full attention on the scene before him. He wouldn't be involved with the torture, he knew that, his brand of punishment would need a medic to fix and they didn't have one on hand. Maybe next time... When Pharma was available. 

Kaon amped up the voltage when Vos shouted for more in the wrong language, but cut the connection as soon as Vos visibly started to enjoy it. He stepped back, arms crossed over his chest, “Tarn gave you an order to speak Neocybex.”

Vos' vocaliser clicked to life, but he remained silent. No use pushing the rules too early, he'd get what he wanted in the end. He always did.

“You know the rules, Vos, if you want it, ask for it.” Kaon's words were accompanied by the purr of his engines and the buzz of his shoulder coils as he readied another charge. 

/Please,/ Vos begged. 

“In Neocybex,” Tarn reminded him, pitching his voice to bring discomfort to Vos. One way or another the mech was going to learn. 

Tarn's voice was so much worse than Vos had expected. Unlike Kaon's shocks – which he'd learnt to crave – Tarn's voice was on a new level of pain, one he couldn't fight. As an instrument of pleasure, Vos knew Tarn's voice intimately, for discomfort too, but for pain, that was new ground. Dangerous ground. Tarn had never used real pain on him before and Vos didn't want a repeat. His spark constricted in his chest, tightening to the point where he couldn't focus on anything else but the immense, burning pain. He cried out, clutching his chest and twisting on the floor to try and escape the relentless humming. “Sssss...s.”

“Yes, Vos,” Tarn cooed down at him, bringing his voice back to a light purr. 

Vos glared, his optics blazing with anger. “Sss...op.”

Helex chuckled, but quieted when Vos' head whipped around and fixed him with a daring glare. The smelter wasn't so easily silenced, “sorry mech, I don't understand 'sop'. Come here and I'll give your vocaliser a warm up. I'll be nice and even warm the rest of you up while I'm at it.” 

“Ffffrag...you.” Vos hissed, employing one of the few sentences he knew - courtesy of Kaon and a lot of high grade. He hated the way his voice struggled around the words, coming out as a deep, guttural growl. Terrifying, yes, but hardly as attractive as his usual voice. 

“Beautiful.” Tarn smiled behind his mask, “after you've learnt to speak Neocybex, we'll teach you not to sound like Tesarus has just ground up your vocaliser and Pharma put it in backwards.” 

“I object to that,” Tesarus protested, “not even I could make his processor sound worse than it is.”

Vos growled and if there was a word in there it was lost. 

“See?” Tesarus continued, pointing to Vos as if it the growl backed up his words. 

“Point taken,” Tarn agreed with a chuckle, “perhaps we should employ Pharma's services and have him perform a complete vocaliser transplant. We could look around for the perfect voice and then take it.” 

“I suggest Nautilator,” Helex said, his voice heavy with a playful growl.

Vos was less impressed, lashing out with a arm to punch Helex's leg. Helex only laughed. 

“What a perfect idea!” Tarn said cheerily, “imagine the horror and fear it would cause the traitors if they believed it was Lord Megatron hunting them down.”

“Imagine the berth fun,” Kaon said. All optics turned to him, “what? You know you thought it too.”

No one could deny it.

/I swear to Unicron and back that I will shoot you all while you recharge,/ growled Vos, /no touching my vocaliser./ 

For his size, Helex moved fast, grabbing Vos with all four of his servos and manhandling him into his smelter. Vos screamed as the space heated to an almost unbearable level. Helex was careful not to bring the heat up too much, lasting damage would be a problem and melting plating was a traitor's punishment. As it was, Vos would be uncomfortable but there would be no damage. 

Vos pounded on the glass, shouting to be let out. His fans worked as fast as they were able, whirring loudly in the enclosed space, the effort was in vain, there was no cooling effect to be had. Vos knew he wouldn't offline, Tarn would stop it long before that happened, but it was the fear of the small, claustrophobic space that notched his panic higher. Venting heavily, he covered his optics and quieted. 

Tarn watched the glass front, of the smelter. Behind the thick glass he could just make out Vos dropping to the bottom and hiding his face on his knees. “I think that's enough, Helex.”

With a resigned huff, Helex dropped the angry, shaking little mech on the ground. Vos hissed, scrambling away from Helex as his plating rapidly cooled with loud pops. He stiffened as Tarn approached him, but relaxed as the tank walked past, focused on Kaon. “Lets show Vos what he can have if he asks for it.” 

Kaon's mouth twisted into a smirk and he reached up to wrap his arms around Tarn's neck. Obviously enjoying being the centre of attention, he pressed his frame against the larger mech's and revved his engine.

“So eager,” Tarn said appreciatively, his hands resting on Kaon's hips, thumbs stroking the smooth metal. 

Not one to be left out, Helex stood and pulled Tarn and Kaon down to the floor where there was more room. Tesarus joined them, taking Kaon for himself now that Tarn was preoccupied with Helex. Vos whimpered from the side, reaching out to touch only to have his hand smacked away, by Tarn, “ask for it.” 

Vos growled and turned away from the knot of writhing mechs with their hands all over each other. His spark wanted to join, the EMFs behind him practically calling for him, but his stubbornness stopped him from complying. Yet. He offlined his optics to break the temptation of turning to look and forced himself to ignore the way his plating heated to the moans and pleas. Tarn's voice rose over the others, the silken tone rewarded with moans from everyone. 

Helex revved his engine deeply, sending waves of vibration into Tarn whose voice hitched, syncing with the frequency of Helex's engine. The smelter moaned, head falling back as the new feeling turned his frame to jelly. His smaller hands dived under the thick plating of Tarn's back, plucking at wiring and sensors while his larger hands pulled Tesarus and Kaon closer so they could join in with the worship of their leader. 

Kaon grumbled at the rough treatment but it didn't stop him from grabbing at Tarn's twin fusion cannon as soon as he was close enough. Leaning in close, he sucked on the edge of the barrel and pushed his tongue deep inside. The barrel heated and hummed as if preparing to fire, the sound only serving to excite Kaon more who pressed against it and writhed.

Tarn arched back against Helex with a needy moan, limbs jerking as the three mechs – five pairs of hands – stroked, petted, pinched and scratched his armour. With his optics off, knowing what mech had his hands where was impossible. They were everywhere, from shoulder treads to ankle joints, pulling at the sensitive areas and it felt amazing. 

Vos made the mistake of looking over his shoulder when he heard – felt – Tarn's lusty moan vibrate through his frame. The pleasure lined tone igniting his sensor net. His vents hitched as he took in the sight of Tarn sandwiched between the three mechs. Against the two behemoths, Tarn looked small, almost delicate in comparison. He twisted in ways Vos wouldn't have believed possible for such a sturdy build. He writhed and moaned between them, hands grasping at whatever was in reach. Vos couldn't remember being so revved up watching anything before.

Hot air poured from Vos' vents as his fans worked overtime to keep him cool. His plating was still hot from Helex's treatment and the internal heat radiating from his circuits didn't help. Standing on shaky legs, Vos staggered over to the group and flopped down in Tesarus' lap. /Touch me,/ he demanded. 

Tesarus smiled wickedly, “wrong language, Tiny.” 

Kaon reached over blindly, most of his attention still on Tarn's gun. When his hand connected with the smooth, circular rifle barrel mounted on Vos' back, he gripped tight, sending wave after wave of electrical shocks through it, upping the voltage as Vos screamed and pressed into his hand. He smirked around Tarn's cannon as he continued the oral assault, his tongue delving into the join between the two barrels. Vos would demand revenge for shocking his barrel, he always did. It would be the kind of revenge that felt good. 

Vos arched into the touch as Tesarus' thick, blunt fingers raked over his frame. A desperate whine coming from his vocaliser. 

“Do you want something, Vos?” Kaon asked in a low rumble.

“Yessss,” Vos hissed back, growling in pleasure as he was rewarded for using the correct language by being sandwiched tightly between Kaon and Tesarus. His nimble fingers stroked over what he could reach, tweaking cabling and armour edges. It didn't matter who he touched, anyone close enough was fine by him. 

Tarn pushed himself onto his knees, sliding up behind Kaon so he could press their heated panels together. Kaon's shoulder coils sparked with lust as he moaned, pressing back eagerly.

Tesarus leaned back on his secondary hands and used his main ones to pick Vos up and turn him around so Vos's back was to his chest and the smallest member had easy access to Kaon. 

Pleased with the new position, Vos grabbed Kaon's sparking shoulder coils and squeezed. Kaon jerked back, but didn't get far with Tarn pressed behind him. “Don't do that again,” he growled, “that's sensitive.” 

Vos took it as a challenge, but Tesarus pulled him back before he could pinch the tall coils again. He could feel the grinder's chest cavity at his back, the blades itching to spin judging from the strained grinding noise. 

Tesarus opened his panel, giant pressurised spike rising up from between Vos' thighs. “Suck it,” he growled to Kaon, pushing the orange helm down, “suck it before I start fragging your optic holes.”

Kaon nipped the tip, “do that and I'll bite your spike off.” Taking the tip into his mouth, he sucked and swirled his tongue along the warm pliable metal. Continually pressing back to Tarn and rolling his hips. Vos watched with a deep moan.

In his new position, Vos was straddling Tesarus' spike, the thick length hot and pulsing against his interface cover. It was too much and simultaneously not enough, he ached to be thrusting into someone's valve and he wasn't picky about who it was. His panel opened with a click, exposing his dripping valve. 

Grinding his hips down, Vos choked on a moan as the friction and static between spike shaft and valve brought his outer valve sensors online. Reaching down, he wrapped both hands around Tesarus' shaft and stroked what Kaon couldn't get in his mouth. Just the size was enough to make him shiver, his own spike could barely compare and for his size it was relatively large. Tesarus' dwarfed his own, even jutting up between his legs, Tesarus' spike was still taller and so much thicker. In comparison, Vos' spike looked tiny and insubstantial, but Vos knew how to use what he had and Kaon had never complained. He wasn't ashamed by his size, but the thought of having a big spike and making the others really scream for him made his engines rev.

Kaon took what he could of Tesarus' spike, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked. He bobbed his head as he worked, taking more down his throat each time. Vos's spike brushed against his cheek as he moved down, leaving a long smear of shimmering pink transfluid from nose ridge to cheek piece. 

Vos moaned and braced his feet on the floor as his mind hatched a plan, leaning back on Tesarus, he lifted his hips, bringing the tip of his spike just a few inches short of Tesarus'. Grabbing Kaon's helm, Vos forced him to take more of Tesarus' spike, bringing his head lower. Kaon gagged, distracted. Perfect. 

Vos thrust up quickly, his free hand helping to guide his spike straight into Kaon's left optic socket. Kaon jerked back in surprise and gagged around the spike now deep in his throat, with both Tesarus' and Vos' hands holding his helm down, there was no pulling away. 

Tarn chuckled, voice cracked with static, control of the modulator lost for now. If Kaon wanted them to stop, he still had use of his comm system and Tarn knew he would use it. The unspoken rule was that they never damaged each other more than the other could take. Vos and Kaon had an interesting relationship. Hearing one scream during the recharge cycle was a normal and quite regular occurrence. 

Enjoying the sight before him, Tarn tapped Kaon's interface panel, a silent order to open. Kaon complied immediately and no sooner had the metal opened, Tarn had thrust inside, rocking his hips until he was fully buried in him. Kaon keened under him, a charge of electricity flowing through his frame as his valve contracted around the large invader. Vos hissed in pleasure as the shock jolted through his spike. /Do that again,/ he moaned. 

Kaon did, but only to spite Vos for using the wrong language. Even though he doubted anyone was still using that as their excuse to frag. 

Polar opposite from Vos, Tesarus growled and smacked the back of Kaon's helm lightly, “don't do that again.”

Vos whined. Kaon growled, engine revving angrily as the slap forced him deeper onto the spike, fuel intake constricting around it as he gagged. 

Tesarus did it again. 

Kaon's dentals bit down in warning, next time he'd really sink them in and Tesarus knew from experience he'd do it. He stroked the back of the orange helm in apology and relaxed his grip slightly, allowing Kaon to pull back if he wanted. However Vos' grip remained strong as he continued to thrust his hips up, his spike hitting the back of Kaon's optical socket each time. 

Helex stood, watching was enjoyable, but taking part was so much better. Standing so his legs were either side of Tesarus, he released the four covers on his codpiece and a part of his spike came from each, twisting around each other until they formed one long, flexible spike. His spike was unique in that he technically had four, each could operate on its own, or join together to form one. Tesarus was enough mech to handle the larger, thicker option. 

“Open wide, Tes.”

“Make me,” Tesarus replied through clenched dentals. 

Helex gripped the top of Tesarus' optical X and twisted until the grinder cried out in pain, mouth opening. Too easy. Helex took the opportunity and pressed in slowly, savouring the moment. “Thank you. Things go so much easier when you just obey.” He moaned thickly as his spike met the restrictive area at the back of Tesarus' throat, the grinder gagging around him. Mercilessly Helex thrust forward, forcing his spike deeper each time. Tesarus' large hands gripped at his hips strong enough to dent the plating. 

The room was filled with a cacophony of moans, scraping metal, needy whines and racing air vents. Their EM fields brushed against each other, transferring the lust and need between them all. Hands were everywhere, the knot of mechs accidentally linking arms and legs as the tried to touch each other. As the pleasure grew, static charged around them, jumping from frame to frame like little arcs of pleasure, ensuring they would all find their peak around the same time. 

Vos overloaded first, crying out and backing his hips up, flooding Kaon's optical socket with transfluid. The warm fluid overflowed and dripped down Kaon's face, leaving long tear-like marks on his pale faceplate. Spent and sated, Vos dropped back against Tesarus, still riding on the wave of pleasure emitted from the other four mechs. 

Kaon sucked harder on Tesarus as he reached up to wipe the warm liquid from his face. Vos grabbed his hand before he could, lacing their fingers together, /leave it. Please? I like it./ Kaon gave a slight nod and dropped his hand away. He'd allow it for now, he'd done the same to Vos in the past.

Vos purred loudly, reaching out to rub his thumb through the pink fluid, smearing it across the chair's sharp features. With his free hand, he stroked Tesarus' spike, strong but gentle. Tesarus bucked under him, lifting him into the air. 

Kaon suddenly keened, back arching. Tearing his hand away from Vos, he reached down to stroke his spike, his movements jerky and fast. His overload was loud, but muffled by Tesarus' spike. Urgent movements forced his spike deeper into his hand, his valve tightening on Tarn's spike. Tarn followed Kaon a few thrusts later, throwing his hips forward, he buried himself in the warm, fluttering valve. Optics shuttering, frame shaking as his overload tore through him. 

Vos moaned as he watched Tarn and Kaon come undone, but his sight didn't last long before Tesarus roared under him. Thrusting his hips up violently. He lost control of his grinder as he focused on overload, the sharp blades whirring to life. It was quick reflexes that moved Vos out of the way before he lost the gun rest mounted on his back. 

Kaon pulled back quickly, choking on the fluid shot into his fuel intake. The rest of Tesarus' transfluid splattered over his face and dripped from his chin. 

Tesarus barely had a chance to vent and enjoy the afterglow before Helex thrust faster, forcing the thick length back into his mouth and down his throat. 

The smelter snarled, lost in the pleasure, hands gripping either side of Tesarus' head to hold it steady as he fragged his mouth. Hips snapping forward in a vague rhythm. He practically roared as Tesarus stroked up his thighs then surprised him with two fingers thrust into his valve. He overloaded hard, pulling back before he accidentally hurt his friend. Tesarus swallowed everything Helex had to offer and cleaned him with his tongue as he pulled back. 

Helex dropped to the floor and vented heavily, to tired to move and clean himself up. Not that anyone else was doing it either. He pulled Tarn and Kaon into his lap as he leaned Tesarus. The five dirty mechs all purring contentedly as they basked in the afterglow.

/You know,/ Vos said in a playful tone, /I find this kind of lesson far more appealing. We should have more like this./

Tarn laughed tiredly, “I told you, all you need is the right incentive.”


End file.
